The Battle for Astodia

by Maryam Durrani

  I sighed. “I know you’re madly in love, but do a better job of keeping it a secret.” This time, he was speechless. His mouth opened as he tried to find the right words.

  “I rest my case, dear prince.” I curtsied and backed out of the room. “Have fun dealing with your servants.” I gestured to the two girls who had been eavesdropping on our whole conversation when they really should’ve been calling him to

  dinner.

  I set up my plans on my desk, candles lining the edges for light. I held the papers down to keep them from fluttering away as a cool breeze blew in through the windows.

  I was planning my little scene outside one of the rebel bases. I had to make it realistic so that they wouldn’t hesitate in taking me in. The papers in front of me were maps to a few discovered rebel bases. The king couldn’t just attack them all and kill everyone; he knew better. If he did so, there would be so many uprisings that the whole kingdom could turn against him. It was a risk he wasn’t willing to take. Instead, he was slowly killing them off from the inside, cutting down their roots, wearing away their base, leaving behind no solid evidence that it was him doing so.

  I ran a hand through the loose, wet, hair that fell around my shoulders, wavy from the tight braid it was always kept in. I stood in a nightgown that reached my ankles, my bare feet uncomfortable on the cold stone floor. Thunder cracked and lightning flashed through the windows as rain slapped the ceiling.

  A hard knock made me jump.

  “Come in,” I called. Lorelle appeared, poking her head in.

  “Hello, m’lady,” she smiled.

  Why was she always smiling? “What do you want?”

  “To ask if it went well with Prince Xavier.”

  I froze, looking at her with hidden wonder.

  “What business is it of yours?”

  “Because I’d like to help you out.”

  I nearly choked on air. “I don’t need anyone’s help,” I said coldly, recovering. I turned away from her and tripped on the edge of my gown. Angry and annoyed, I stood tall, although my ego was slightly bruised.

  That made her giggle. I scrunched up my nose, fed up with her liveliness. Should I have scared her off in the beginning?

  “Was he mad? I heard you said a few things to him too.” She covered her mouth, hiding her bright smile. “Did you really accuse the prince of—”

  “I was getting him back,” I said dryly. “Now if you’re done, please excuse me.” I turned my back towards here.

  “He looked like he had it bad for you. Well, I wasn’t there, so I shouldn’t know. Not saying it’s true,” she waved her hands dismissively, “but that’s what I heard from the other girls.”

  “Well, they lie,” I said, suddenly defensive. “Rumors spread like wildfire, you know.”

  I could see the twinkle in her blue eyes. I hated when they acted this way, pretending they knew everything. Lorelle knew nothing about me. Nothing.

  “Goodbye,” I said abruptly and to the point. Her smile faltered. She sighed, turning on one heel, and, shoulders drooping, she exited. I rolled my eyes and dropped into a chair, my eyes tired from the late-night reading.

  A few minutes later, I heard another knock on my door. “Do not enter,” I groaned, running a hand through my hair. The door opened.

  “You caused quite the uproar,” Xavier announced, strolling in. I got to my feet. Suddenly, the lightning crashed, and the wind whistled. The flames blew out. We stood in the dark.

  My eyes slowly adjusted. I blinked.

  Xavier walked over to me, resting his hands gently on my

  shoulders. Through the light from the moon, I could see his golden eyes watching me.

  “Look,” he said softly, “I just wanted to tell you that . . .”

  “What?” I asked, peering up at him.

  And then the thunder cracked, and we jumped apart.

  I stepped back.

  He sighed.

  “Goodnight,” he said after a moment.

  I turned my back to him and sat in the plush chair again. “Goodnight.”

  I unsheathed my sword and motioned for my opponent to come at me.

  The sun was rising, the grass wet and slick with mud from last night’s storm. The weather wasn’t cold but icy. I wore a loose cream tunic that I tucked into my brown pants so I could move easily, my black boots specially made for the wet dirt ground. I had on fingerless gloves so I could have a good grip on my weapon.

  My opponent, a massive guard, ran at me with his sword. I sidestepped, slamming my leg into the back of his knees, causing them to buckle. He fell on all fours. With a sharp kick to his back, he was lying face first on the ground.

  “Oh, come on,” I kicked him in annoyance, “that was too easy, even for you.”

  He stood up, grumbling. “My shift starts in the afternoon. It’s too early.”

  “Fine. Bring me a worthy opponent,” I said, putting a hand on the belt hanging from my hips.

  Relieved, he walked away as I watched him hit the back of the head of a lower rank guard and point at me. The lower rank pleaded a little, but the guard that fought me wouldn’t take no for an answer.

  The lower rank approached me wide-eyed and unsheathed his sword. We circled each other.

  My one rule was to never attack first.

  He lunged and I ducked, landing a blow with my fist to his stomach. He struck my cheekbone with the butt of his sword, and I rolled backward, rubbing it. He grinned victoriously, but I shook my head. It wasn’t over just yet. I leaped, hitting his arm with a rough blow. He took in the pain and swiped outward. I retaliated immediately, lashing out with my fist, knuckles connecting with his nose. He clutched it, blood seeping through his fingers as I delivered a roundhouse kick to his back, bringing an end to the practice session.

  He stood up, gripping his nose.

  I sighed. “When you fight me, don’t hold back. Never underestimate your opponent.”

  “Oh, trust me, that’s the last thing I’d think of doing,” he mumbled.

  I stalked off to find a better opponent.

  “Nice bruise,” a voice drawled behind me.

  Oh, no.

  “If you want an opponent who can actually do real damage to that pretty face, I could find one for you.”

  I kept walking, when I heard the clang of a sword being unsheathed. I could hear it cutting through the air.

  Right as it came down, I whipped around, detecting where it was coming from. Xavier was left-handed. He attacked from the right. I spun around, bringing a knife from my belt up just in time to stop the sword from beheading me. Metal clanged against metal, the sound cutting through the silent air.

  “I, Prince Xavier of Astodia, challenge you to a battle.”

  Oh, there was no way I could turn down such a wonderful

  opportunity.

  “Challenge accepted.”

  We stepped back, putting our weapons away.

  Xavier unclipped his cape, catching it before it fell on the ground. He tossed it to a nearby guard and rolled up his sleeves to his elbows, revealing his strong arms. He was wearing fingerless gloves and dressed in a white tunic and black leather pants as if he had come prepared for this.

  He smirked, watching me take in his appearance.

  No one attacked first. I suspected we had the same tactics in mind. Taking the opportunity, I attacked, slipping out my knife in the process. He dodged and crouched, sliding his leg under my feet. I lost my balance, landing on my back with a thud, but I was back on my feet just as fast. In annoyance, I flipped my blade around and tried to catch his bare arm, but he grabbed my wrist, twisting it around my back. He pushed my arm up, pain shooting up my shoulder. I gritted my teeth as he whispered in my ear, “looks like I won.”

  Taking the chance I kicked his leg, ripping my arm out of his grasp and nearly dislocating it. He staggered backward, and I slammed my boot into his hip.

  Unfazed, he grinned and swung the base of his sword, hitting me square in the jaw.
Alright, he was being merciless. Xavier was the only opponent that hadn’t hesitated on landing blows hard enough to leave actual bruises, so I decided to not hold back anymore.

  My jaw was throbbing as I staggered back with a scowl.

  I launched myself at him, realizing I’d have two big purple bruises on either side of my face by tomorrow. I faked an attack with my sword, pretending to come from the top but I switched mid-attack and brought my knee up, catching him in the stomach. He stumbled, losing his breath.

  I delivered a roundhouse kick to his back, and he fell on his knees, taking in breaths. But he wasn’t going to let me beat him this easily. As I grabbed his sword which he’d thrown to the floor after I’d kicked him, he decided to make his move. Swinging his leg with all the force he could muster, he caught me in the back of the knees, his palms plastered firmly on the ground for balance.

  My legs flew out from under me, and I landed on my back with such force that all the air whooshed out of my lungs. My sword skid out of my grasp and I cursed under my breath.

  Taking his chance, Xavier pinned me to the floor, pressing my arms down. My legs were trapped under him. He was grinning in an I’ve beat you now manner. Yanking my arm free from his grasp, I used all my weight against him and pushed his arm off roughly. My shoulder still ached from when he’d put it in that arm lock.

  Finding an opening, my fist connected with his nose.

  He yelled out an “Arghh!” and fell onto his back. I leaned over, holding him down the same way.

  “Got you.”

  “Not just yet.” I realized I hadn’t got his legs down just before his boots found my stomach, kicking me off onto my back. My head hit the ground, and I couldn’t breathe for a moment, pain ripping through my skull.

  As I watched him get up, I rolled onto my back from any further damage reaching my stomach. I reached down for my belt.

  But it wasn’t there.

  I turned, hiding my horrified look as I realized he had it in his hands, laughing and swinging the knife belt in the air, one fist against his hip.

  I staggered to my feet and decided to go unprofessional.

  I tackled him to the ground.

  Struggling, trying to get kicks or punches anywhere, we rolled around. I got hold of a knife on the belt. Yanking it out, and knowing Xavier would’ve done the same, I nicked his shoulder, making sure it wasn’t too deep, because if he died of blood loss, the king would make sure I died of worse reasons. I rolled away, getting to my feet, locks of hair loose from my braid, grinning from ear to ear with triumph.

  But Xavier was the one laughing.

  “What’s the matter?” I asked, suddenly confused. My chest rose and fell, my breath heavy, and I rolled my shoulders. He stood up, letting out a sigh.

  “You’re bleeding,” he chuckled.

  “I am?” I reached behind myself, trying to find traces of blood. Sure enough, my fingers brushed something wet, and my hand came away scarlet. “When did you do that?”

  He laughed loudly. “When you tackled me, princess. Guess who won.”

  I looked right into his eyes and punched him, and as he fell, he yanked me down too. I landed on him, hands on his shoulders. As we scuffled some more, Xavier suddenly froze, looking past my shoulder. His eyes widened.

  I looked up to find King Sadim Cane looking down at us. How long had he watched us grapple pointlessly?

  “Break it up,” was all he said, his look disapproving, and then strode away.

  I looked back down at Xavier, dropping my fist. I let go of

  his collar, and the back of his head hit the ground. I looked around us to find everyone watching—guards, servants, the ladies and the gentlemen—everyone. I put my hands on his shoulders and pushed myself up.

  “Get up,” I told Xavier, who wiped his forehead on the back of his sleeve, his dark hair falling in his golden-brown eyes.

  I turned my back on him as the servants ran to his aid with bandages and ointments. They stood on each side, holding his arms to support him. I scowled in disgust. They fussed over him like a newborn baby, and from the look on his face, I could tell he was enjoying every moment of it.

  “I look forward to this again,” he chortled, reaching out and pushing the back of my head. I tensed, wanting to punch his face in again for doing that. I mumbled curses under my breath which he evidently ignored. “And you should get that nasty wound on your back cleaned up. Please, it’s gruesome.”

  I huffed.

  SIX

  Lorelle dabbed at the gash on my back with a fresh towel.

  “Why would you fight Prince Xavier in the first place?” she asked, her delicate hands using a starch-white towel to staunch the bleeding. I winced.

  “He challenged me,” I mumbled.

  “I wouldn’t fight him even if he paid me a million gold coins,” she giggled.

  “No, I’m sure you would.” I straightened my back and yawned.

  “That’s true,” she nodded, “I definitely would. But still. Isn’t he the most skilled fighter in Astodia?” Lorelle set the scarlet stained cloth aside and picked up a roll of bandages.

  “Not as skilled as I am. It’s just that people don’t know I exist. That’s why he’s at the top at the moment,” I said gruffly as she wrapped the bandages carefully around me.

  “Stitches?”

  “I need this wound shut.”

  “Stitches it is.” She disappeared for a few seconds, ordering a few maids around and then came back in, hiding it behind her back. “Don’t be intimidated by the needle.”

  I rolled my eyes. As the needle poked through my skin, I breathed out evenly.

  “So,” Lorelle said, trying to make conversation and take my mind off the pricking, “If you don’t mind me prying, why do you have such a rivalry with the prince?”

  “I do mind you asking, actually,” I said, resting my chin on my fist, my legs crossed and my back bent over, the sheets balled up in my fist against my chest to cover myself.

  “If I were in your place,” she continued, as I felt another painful pinch and the feeling of the thread being pulled, “I would feel lucky. He actually talks to you. I doubt any of us girls would ever be able to dance with him in a ball, according to our statuses,” she sighed dreamily.

  “But you’re not in my spot, and you should be very, very happy about it,” I retorted.

  Lorelle giggled. “One day our wishes will come true too. After all, we’re humans, even if we work for other humans. We’ll all get our prince one day, even if he’s just a small servant boy. The only thing that matters is what’s in your heart.”

  I stayed quiet, her words echoing in my head. I never gave a second thought to the workers around the castle, their lives, what they did, what they received and how much they gave.

  I never really cared. It was none of my business.

  Not that I paid a lot of attention or that it mattered to someone like me, but I did realize something from Lorelle’s words. No matter how low they were treated, how ignored they were, they had friends. They cared about each other. They all had someone to back them up.

  Unlike me.

  Didn’t that make me lower than them?

  “Is that so?” I raised my eyebrows. “Well, I hope you find your prince. But I’m never going to find my prince, nor will he ever come looking for me. I don’t need one,” I responded curtly, rubbing my eyes as the needle went through again, making tiny holes through my skin, guiding the thread.

  “Never say never,” she said, a smile in her voice as usual. “Like I said, everyone has a prince. Yours is probably waiting for you to rescue him, instead of him looking for you.”

  I found myself smiling at the thought. Me, saving him. I loved the thought of it.

  “Done,” she said, gently dabbing at my back. “Just rest. I’ll go check on Prince Xavier,” she smiled, and I groaned, falling forward.

  “Tell him to stay away from me,” I said, closing my eyes and rolling myself in layers of sheets.
r />   “Will do, m’lady,” she bowed. “And please, be careful. The stitches will reopen.”

  I grabbed a knife from the utility belt and held the tip, aiming, and threw it.

  The blade sunk right in the center of the dartboard.

  “Bullseye,” I smirked, grabbing another one. I had five more laid out on my sheets in front of me.

  I picked up another one and aimed.

  As soon as I was about to throw, the door swung open, diverting my attention.

  Xavier ducked just in time as it flew past his ear, burying itself in the wooden door.

  “What did I do now?”

  “Knock!” I yelled and threw my covers over my head. “Get out.”

  “Alright, m’lady, but first tell me how the stitches are doing.”

  I uncovered my face. “How do you know I have stitches?”

  “You know how quickly word travels around the castle,” he said, raising his eyebrows.

  Lorelle. That little blabbermouth.

  “The girl was fixing up my shoulder and talking to me about how my princess that was going to show up one day,” he laughed. “I bet it’s going to be Dystalphi’s princess. She’s beautiful.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Good luck with her. I bet she’s way more in love with those springy curls on her head she’s always playing with than a prince.”

  He laughed, and I found myself grinning.

  As the moment died away, Xavier fingered the door handle carefully. “It doesn’t hurt too bad, does it.”

  “I’m fine,” I said abruptly, waving him off. “I’m used to it,” I lied. Pain was pain, and even I couldn’t fight that.

  “Good,” he nodded. “You won’t kill me though, will you?” his genuine smile was back. I couldn’t help smiling at the sincerity of his voice.

  The sparkle in his honey-gold eyes was back.

  I bit the inside of my lip to keep from laughing at him. “No. You put up a fair fight. I’ll spare you.”

  His grin was wide and almost contagious. I had to look away to keep it from rubbing off on me.

  “She’s a nice girl, isn’t she? Lorelle?” Xavier said, still gripping the door handle. Suddenly, he looked very, very tired.